


spiders crawling up your back (bite, bite, bite!)

by anyabarnes



Series: whumptober 2019! [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Delirium, Flashbacks, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Survivor Guilt, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, day three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 05:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyabarnes/pseuds/anyabarnes
Summary: Every time he closes his eyes he sees Tony, pulling himself out of his grave, sour words falling out of his mouth like the spiders that cover his body.





	spiders crawling up your back (bite, bite, bite!)

**Author's Note:**

> day three of whumptober: delirium!
> 
> tw: self harm, survior's guilt
> 
> click out of this if u aren't feeling good or in the right state of mind. my fic will always be here; put yourself first.

Peter hasn’t slept in three days. 

Every time he closes his eyes he sees Tony, pulling himself out of his grave, sour words falling out of his mouth like the spiders that cover his body. _It’s your fault Peter. If you had been better I would be alive._ Then he’s falling, falling, falling, and suddenly he’s Natasha, thick blood pouring out of the side of his head, frost creeping up over his palms. _It should have been you, Peter. You should have died instead of me. If you had been better I would be alive-_ __

_ _Peter shakes his head, staring blankly back up at the whiteboard. None of the words make sense to him, they just jumble together to create a meaning he can’t decipher. His hands are shaking, and he can’t tell if it’s from exhaustion or anxiety. _ _

_ _He doesn’t really want to know, honestly. _ _

_ __It’syourfaultit’syourfaultit’syourfaultit’syourfaultit’syourfaultit’syour-_ _ _

_ _He’s startled by the bell, a loud ringing sound that just barely drowns out the noise of his incessant thoughts. He picks up his bag, moving towards the door. He feels like a puppet being played on a set of strings. He doesn’t have control. _ _

_ _It seems he does nothing on his own now. _ _

_ _He feels like a sardine in a can, forced up against other fish, barely alive. His hands won’t stop shaking. He shoves them in his pocket. _ _

_ _“Hey, Peter,” a voice from behind him calls. He turns around to face a kid he’s never met before-a kid he’s never _seen _before. He quirks his eyebrows. _ _

_ _“Uh-hi,” he says, voice think and scratchy from unuse. “Can I-can I help you with something?” _ _

_ _“Yeah,” the kid smirks at him. “Tell me why you did it, Parker?” _ _

_ _“Did what?” _ _

_ _“Tell me why you _killed _Tony, Peter. Why you let him die like that. It should have been you. Did you know his heart shriveled up from the force of the power, but he didn’t actually die right away? He was in so much pain, Peter. So _so_ much. And you killed him, you did that to him.” The kid shakes his head, the sides of his mouth quirking up a little higher than they should be. The kid’s fingers tighten around his bag, nails digging into the fabric so hard that Peter feels the fabric could just rip into shreds. _ _

_ _“That should have been you, _Underoos._ You should have been the one to die. Tony didn’t deserve to be in any pain. But you, in some part of your stupid little brain, thought that you deserved to live. _Newsflash_, kid, _you don’t,_” he spits, voice surrounding Peter. Peter looks around. Everyone is looking at him. _ _

_ __Why is everyone looking at him?_ _ _

_ _“Peter killed Tony,” the kid says, his voice high and sing-songy. _ _

_ _“Peter killed Tony,” he repeats louder. He starts walking closer to Peter. Peter steps back. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. _ _

_ _“Peter killed Tony.” More and more kids are joining in. He can’t see anything. He can’t breathe. _ _

_ _“Peter killed Tony.” _ _

_ _“Peter killed Tony.” _ _

_ _“Peter killed Tony.” They’re so loud. So loud. He can’t hear anything. They are so close to him, so close, so close, so close, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, _he can’t breathe-_ _ _

_ _“I killed Tony,” he cries. He pulls his hair tighter, tighter, trying to hold on to anything that might give him some semblance of sanity, might quiet the choir of voices. He leans over, gasping for air, fingers moving to dig into his arms, leaving crescent marks all over his forearms. “_I killed Tony!_” _ _

_ _“Dude, what the _fuck _is your problem?” Somebody pushes past him.’ _ _

_ _He’s sitting on the floor. No one is looking at him. _ _

_ _He can’t see that kid anywhere. _ _

_ _“What?” He says stupidly. _ _

_ _“I said, what the fuck is your problem? Why the fuck are you just sitting on the fucking floor crying about some dude named Tony? That’s fucking weird, man,” the kids says, looking Peter up and down in disgust before walking away. Peter looks down, watching as shoes sweep past him. _ _

_ _He’s so scared. _ _

_ _He runs to the bathroom, bag slung haphazardly over his shoulders. He locks himself in the stall, curling up on top of the closed toilet. His nails dig into his arm, hard, harder, and then blood is dripping down his arms. _ _

_ __It’s your fault, it’s your fault._ _ _

_ _He’s so tired. His hands are shaking violently, rubbing up and down the sides of his arms. He just wants to go to sleep. He whimpers, rocking back and forth on the cold toilet seat. _ _

_ __You killed him, you killed him. _ _ _

_ _“No,” Peter whimpers. “_No_! I didn’t- no, no, no, _no, no, no_!” He sobs, burying his face in his hoodie. “I _promise,_ I promise I didn’t kill him! I_ promise_.” _ _

_ _He’s shaking so bad. He can’t focus on anything, the tiles going blurrier and blurrier by the second. He’s so, so, so tired. So, so tired. _ _

_ _He just wants to sleep. _ _

_ _“Peter?” A soft voice rings through the bathroom. It’s light and sweet and it sounds like home. His hands stop shaking as much. He can finally breathe a little more. He hears footsteps, loud and sure. They’re coming near him. _ _

_ _He can breathe better. _ _

_ _The figure stops in front of the stall door, and Peter reached to undo the latch. Before he can, the door is pulled off of it’s edges, one by one. The metal pops. The plastic of the door splinters at the edges. _ _

_ _Peter’s face drops. _ _

_ _“Why did you kill me, Peter?” Tony grins, half of his face burned in a congealed mass of flesh. Spiders crawl out of his eye, one by one by one by one crawling on the floor and they’re crawling on Peter they’re crawling on Peter oh god_ they’re crawling on Peter-_ _ _

_ _Peter screams as Tony smiles._ _

**Author's Note:**

> hope everyone enjoyed! leave a kudo and comment if you so feel inclined!
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @anyabarnes! i don't bite! tell me about your day, suggest a prompt, or just hang out!
> 
> i love every single one of you. please take some time to yourself today and give yourself a break. you matter and you are loved so dearly.


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